"In fact, I was under the impression she'd already made 'em," he added with a grin.
"No, they're unsettled at present," returned Kitty.

"She's not very keen about Maryon Rooke now." Kitty was of the opinion that you should never tell even the best of husbands more than he need know.

"So we think she requires distraction," she pursued firmly.
"And who's the poor devil you've fixed on as a burnt-offering ?" enquired Seymour, tugging reflectively at his big, fair moustache.
"It certainly is a man," conceded Kitty.
"Naturally," agreed her husband amicably.
"But I'm not going to tell you who it is or I know you'd let the cat out of the bag, and then Nan will be put off at the beginning.
Men"-- superbly--"never can keep a secret." "But they can use their native observation, my dear," retorted Barry calmly.

"And I bet you five to one in gloves that I tell you the name of the man inside a week." "In a week it won't matter," pronounced Kitty oracularly.

"Give me a week--and you can have all the time that's left." "Well, we'd better occupy what's left of this afternoon in getting back home, old thing," returned her husband.